


xxx

by hchano, littleblackchat



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Adrinette, Angst, Comfort, Daddy Issues, F/M, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, LadyNoir - Freeform, Painmaker, adrienette - Freeform, daddy issues everywhere lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 23:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6097249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hchano/pseuds/hchano, https://archiveofourown.org/users/littleblackchat/pseuds/littleblackchat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows.</p><p>The two words reverberated in an unwelcome mantra that haunted Marinette’s every thought and action. </p><p>Brushing her teeth in the morning, each stroke echoed the rhythm. Every chewing gnash of her teeth, every step on her way to school, every tap-tap, tap-tap of her pencil against paper rang in her ears, ‘he knows, he knows, he knows’.</p><p>He knows I'm Ladybug.</p><p>[includes original art in every chapter by hchano and littleblackchat]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

✧       **1**         ✧

_He knows._

The two words reverberated in an unwelcome mantra that haunted Marinette’s every thought and action.

Brushing her teeth in the morning, each stroke echoed the rhythm. Every chewing gnash of her teeth, every step on her way to school, every tap-tap, tap-tap of her pencil against paper rang in her ears, ‘he knows, he knows, _he knows’_.

_He knows I'm Ladybug.  
_

✧         ✧         ✧

The night that it had happened was another in a string of uneventful patrols. Chat and Ladybug had taken to alternating shifts in the quiet of Hawkmoth’s absence, but more often than not, Chat appeared during her assigned patrols. It had been one of those nights.

She'd teased him for showing up as usual, though they both knew she was grateful to have him along. They didn’t talk much beyond their normal banter, but the otherwise humdrum patrol quickly waxed late into the night as the two lost all track of time in rounds of tag and easy company. She'd even entertained a few of his advances with her own--if more subtle--responses.

He was still on her mind when she returned to her balcony long after midnight. Dropping through the skylight to land on her bed like she'd done countless times before, she might have been a little distracted. Maybe she was still thinking about the cute way Chat had stumbled over his words when he finally caught onto her gentle flirting (even if she'd never admit aloud that that's what it had been, especially to him). In retrospect, it hadn't been her brightest idea. It had been intended as harmless fun, but the way he'd looked at her... The darkness hid her flush, but she could feel it creeping up her cheeks nonetheless. She silently resolved to reestablish those boundaries--and their respective curfews--on the next patrol.

These were the thoughts running through Marinette's mind as her transformation peeled away, and so she didn't even notice him standing there until a loud bang announced his presence.

She nearly fell over the railing of her bed at the sound as she locked wide eyes on him, frozen at her trap door.

"P- papa!" she croaked.

For a moment, she allowed herself to believe that he hadn't seen, that it could be explained away; but that hope quickly faded as she watched the shock on his face give way to horror, and then hurt.

"U- um..." she began, feeling her heart sink as she tried to make sense of the stream of emotions playing across his face. She'd imagined this scenario countless times. In all the fantasies where she revealed her double life to her parents, after the initial shock they were always happy for her. They were _proud_ . But this...  

The disappointment was nearly tangible in the thick silence that hung between them, and a tinge of anger slowly seeped into it.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

She knew her father was an emotional man, passionate and optimistic about everything in his life, but nothing moved him like his devotion to his family. Thinking about it now, it shouldn't have surprised her that he was reacting poorly.

But Marinette couldn't remember the last time her father had been this upset with her. As she watched a nameless emotion flicker behind his eyes, she was suddenly unsure if he’d _ever_ been this upset with her.

"Marinette." His voice made her jump despite the quiet, almost dreamy way he spoke. "You're Ladybug?"

"Y-yeah! Yes-"

"My daughter is Ladybug," he murmured, and she realized he was talking to himself. She carefully descended the ladder but paused at the bottom, unsure what to do next.

Her father stood rigidly on the steps for a moment longer, then shook his head, running a hand down the side of his face. He finally looked at her with seeing eyes for the first time that night. "I don't think we should discuss this without your mother here," he said at last.

"Uh, b-but..." Her mother wouldn’t be back in town until the next day, and the thought of this suspense hanging over her until then twisted Marinette’s stomach further into knots. “But, Papa-”

"Until then,” he interrupted, “I don't want you doing... _that,_ ” he finished, gesturing vaguely at her. “Understood?"

"But if an akuma-"

"Marinette, no!" he hissed, suddenly raising his voice. She froze, watching him like a deer in headlights .

And suddenly she could see it: in the furrow of his brow, in the haphazard trail of his gaze, in the subtle tremor that his balled fists tried to hide.

He was terrified.

Of her power? No, surely not. More likely he was afraid that his precious daughter was the daring figure he’d cheered on the news so many times. Minutes ago the figure of Ladybug had hardly seemed real, and now he’d discovered that his only child was risking her life daily to protect the city--to protect _him._ And not only had she been doing it all along, but he’d been none the wiser. She wasn’t even sure which was more shocking to him. It was a small part of the reason she'd never shared her secret with her parents. As she stood inches from a man who suddenly felt miles away, she knew she’d been right to keep it from them.

"Papa, you don't have to worry about me," she said softly, stepping closer and offering a timid smile. "I'm actually really good at what I do, if you haven't noticed. And I'm never alone, you know? Chat Noir-"

Something in his eyes stopped her. They stared at one another wordlessly as Marinette tried to identify the emotion that suddenly swallowed her. But before she could put a finger on it, her father slowly turned and descended the stairs. The trap door clicked softly behind him, leaving an oppressive silence in its wake.

_Ah_ , she thought, defeat washing over her. _It was betrayal_.

✧         ✧         ✧  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H: SOOO, a little backstory. This actually just started out as a dumb prompt I threw at lbc back in early December. It was just like a, "HEY WHAT IF THIS THING OCCURRED??!!" And lbc shot back with, "oh man imagine if this happened too!!" And then me screaming "OMG YAAAS" while suggesting another thing and her screaming "YAAAAS" while suggesting something more, and after a lot of yodeling back and forth suddenly we were writing a fic. (Mind you the original pitch I had isn't even till halfway through....)
> 
> ANYWAY, chapter one is really short. Sorry lol. Lbc didn't have anything to draw this chapter (I claimed all the thangs) but she's got stuff in the next chapter :D
> 
> LBC: Yeah, we basically fangirl-pingponged our way to 50 pages of fic lol


	2. Chapter 2

✧         **2**        ✧ 

“See you tomorrow, girl!” Alya called as she turned the corner, disappearing along with Marinette’s last shred of courage.  
  
“I can do this, I can do this, I can _do this_ ,” she groaned through gritted teeth, her smile frozen in place.  
  
She’d snuck carefully past her father that morning as he worked in the bakery, but she knew there would be no avoiding him when she got home. With Alya gone, she was officially out of alibis. Yet still she stood there, feet rooted at the top of the school steps, half-heartedly waving at the empty space where her friend had been as if Marinette could stretch the moment out until school started again the next morning.  
  
“ _I can’t do thisssss_ ,” she amended at last, her cheeks starting to ache.  
  
"It will get easier if you just talk to him!" came the muffled encouragement from her bag.  
  
“Easy for you-”  
  
“Marinette?”  
  
“BWAGHH!” She nearly sent herself toppling down the stairs--that was one solution to her problem--as she jumped at the sound of the voice from behind her. She panted audibly as she tried to regain her heart’s normal rhythm, turning to identify her attacker. Seeing that it was Adrien Agreste did nothing to slow her pulse.  
  
“A-A-A-AAAAAD. RIEN,” she stammered, mentally slapping herself. She wasn’t sure how she could dreamily sigh his name so many times into her empty room and still not be able to say it properly to his face.  
  
"Y-yeah," he replied, clearly unsure how to address her sudden-onset psychosis. “Are… are you okay?”  
  
“YEAH,” she burst, startling them both. “Uh, yeah, yeah, fine. I’m fine. Totally fine,” she continued, gesturing wildly. “I’m fine, you’re fine--I MEAN, not that you’re FINE as in YOU’RE _FINE_ , I mean you _ARE_ FINE but I mean-” she stared at her hands as they paused in mid-motion, blinking as the runaway train that was her mouth collided with her brain and ground to a sudden halt.  She’d never more desperately wished her Ladybug powers included the ability to disappear than she did at that moment, as the silence stretched out between them for what seemed like hours.  
  
“You… don’t seem okay,” he finally pressed, the last word piquing as if it were a question. Still bright red, Marinette looked up at the invitation in his voice. He blushed softly in answer when he saw her, but his expression was open, concerned. Fighting down the mental cacophony of ‘ _HE’S SO CUTE_ ’s that assaulted her, she noted a distinct lack of disgust or horror in his face. Maybe he hadn’t heard the verbal catastrophe she’d just committed after all.  
  
Or maybe he was just that kind.  
  
“Yeah, maybe… maybe I’m not exactly… FINE fine,” she admitted once she’d collected herself.  
  
“Depends who you’re asking, I guess,” he mumbled under his breath as he dropped to take a seat at the top of the steps.

“What?” she asked, still trying to quell the fangirling cheers in her head. He patted the space next to him in answer, and she took it with a grateful smile. They sat in silence for a moment, watching the cars pass by as her thoughts drifted elsewhere.  
  
“Are you avoiding home for some reason?”  
  
“WHAT?” she squawked, her attention suddenly refocused. “NO. I mean yes. I mean… how…?” Adrien stifled a giggle. Why did she always react in every direction at once?  
  
“When I… if I didn’t want to go home, I’d probably try to think of something to do at school for a long time, is all.”  
  
“What time is it?” she asked, hugging her legs to her chest. The time she’d stalled with Alya felt like a drop in the bucket.  
  
“It’s after 5. Practice just ended.”  
  
“Practice?” she asked as if she didn’t already know.  
  
“Fencing,” he replied, patting his duffle in answer.  
  
“Cool,” she crooned before falling back into a comfortable silence.

 _How odd_ , she thought, peeking up at him over the nest of her arms, _who knew it could be so nice to just be quiet with someone?_ A shy smile spread across her lips and he caught her eye, something in his gaze repeating the question without being said.  
  
“I…” she wrung her mouth against the strain of the secret. “I can’t really… tell anyone about it. I mean, like, ANYONE,” she emphasized, noticing his suddenly crestfallen expression. “I… I really appreciate you asking, Adrien.”  
  
He could see she meant it, but didn’t know how to reply.  
  
“Really, it… I’m sorry,” she said in quiet defeat.  
  
“Well,” he mused, tilting his head back. “What if you tell me, but just use…”  he twisted his lips in contemplation, mirroring what Marinette had done just moments before. She giggled. She supposed models must have sort of ‘double identities’ as well. She could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out a way to help her. It made her heart ache.  
  
“Adrien, have you… have you ever…” He turned to give her his full attention as she fumbled for the right words. She wanted to meet him halfway, but this was dangerous ground.  She’d already been outed to her father, and that was more than enough revelation for the week. “Was there ever a time someone found out who you were, and it... caused problems?” she asked at last.  
  
He tensed for a moment before he could compose himself, forcing on a practiced smile.  
  
“You mean…” he began slowly, “if someone found out I was…”  
  
“A model,” she finished for him.  
  
“Oh, yeah, uh, of course...” he stuttered.  
  
“...and what happened?” she coaxed when he trailed off.  
  
“Well, most people think I went to a different school before this,” (she didn’t, but she wasn’t about to tell him that), “but I was actually home schooled until last year.”  
  
“Not a lot of time for class between photoshoots and fencing and piano and learning Chinese, huh?” she interjected before the logical half of her brain could stop her.  
  
“Exactly,” he chuckled. If he noticed her over-familiarity with his life, he didn’t let on. “At first when I transferred here nobody knew who I was, so they just treated me like everyone else. I was just one of the crowd, you know? But pretty soon people started to notice, like ‘Hey, you look like this model guy,’ or ‘Wait, is that you in that poster?’ and once a few people figured it out, there was no keeping it a secret anymore.”  
  
Marinette silently wondered if Chloe had helped the ‘starting to notice’ process along for her own benefit, but didn’t interrupt. Adrien stared out at the cars that drove past, lost in reflection.  
  
“It was really… I dunno, lonely, I guess,” he said at length.  
  
“Lonely? But everyone adores you-” she cut herself off short of another humiliating speech. Adrien hummed questioningly at her, eyes still unseeingly trained on the flowing traffic.  
  
“I’m not so sure. I think people like the _idea_ of me--the perfect-lighting, photoshopped version of me from some magazine. But _me_?” he said, touching his chest. He let out a long sigh. Marinette took his shoulder before she could stop herself, giving it a comforting squeeze despite her shaking hand. The look he gave her in return made her embarrassment worth it.  
  
“Just so you know, some of us like the model because he reminds us of the person, not the other way around,” she murmured, unable to break his gaze. He placed a hand over hers and looked at the ground. Was he blushing?  
  
“Thanks, Marinette,” he purred under his breath, the sound sending her already stuttering heartbeat through the roof, “I didn’t mean to complain.”  
  
She wanted to scream at him that he could complain for a thousand years and it would be worth it to hear the sound of his voice, but she managed to control herself.  
  
“I made friends eventually,” he continued, giving her hand an almost imperceptible squeeze that triggered a dizzyingly perceptible echo in her chest,  “but it was just… I don’t know…”  
  
“It was what?” she pressed, drawn into the reverie with him. He knotted his lips to one side as he thought.  
  
“I guess I wanted to go to public school so that I could be like everyone else, be _with_ everyone else,” he replied after a pause, “but when everyone found out who I was, it’s like they put me way up on this pedestal where I couldn’t reach them anymore.”  
  
“I guess it really is lonely at the top,” Marinette mused, wanting to say a million more comforting things but too embarrassed to voice any of them.  
  
“I guess it can be,” he conceded. “Not always, though,” he added, smiling at her. She could hardly hear him over her heart pounding in her ears. He couldn’t just go _looking_ at people like that. Heads would explode. Marinette felt a blush brush her cheeks. Letting his gaze drop, Adrien suddenly noticed that he was still holding her hand.  
  
“Sorry!” he started, suddenly pulling back. He hadn’t realized how close they’d gotten. “H-how did I make this all about me??”  
  
“No-” Marinette began, suddenly remembering why they were talking in the first place. “I’d totally forgotten!”  
  
“Sorry,” he winced, rubbing the back of his neck but staring at the hand that he’d been holding.  
  
“No, you have no idea what a relief it is, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day and all night. I needed a break.”  
  
“It’s that awful? Your parents seem nice...” he trailed off pointedly, leaving her space to correct him.  
  
“They are! They _totally_ are,” she affirmed. “It’s just...” She gave her mind time to un-scatter before she answered, carefully picking each word. “My dad found out… something about me… something that he didn’t know before. Nothing bad or anything, but we didn’t… talk about it. We always talk about everything. I think he’s angry. Like, _really_ angry.” As she thought of her father, the words began to tumble out of her mouth unchecked. “I don’t want to disappoint him, but I also can’t back down, so I think it’ll just turn into a massive _fight_ , and Papa and I have _never_ fought, _ever_ , and he just- _Ugh_ , and I probably should have talked to him this morning, but he wants to wait until Maman gets back, but when I get home he’ll definitely want to talk. And I can’t, I mean even the thought of it just makes me-”  
  
She gasped as he rested gentle fingers on the back of her hand. She looked up at a sympathetic Adrien, then down at the edge of her sleeve, which she now saw she’d been twisting under her thumb, wringing the cuff back and forth. A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips despite her worry. “Thanks,” she whispered, a bit wistful as he drew his hand away.  
  
“Hard to believe that you of all people would be afraid of a fight,” he said, amused. She gaped at him in alarm.  
  
“What do you mean, me of all people?” she asked carefully.  
  
“I mean, look at the way you take down Chloe all the time,” he continued. “She’s gotta be scarier than your parents, right?” He wiggled his eyebrows in mock seriousness. She laughed before she could stop herself.  
  
“Scarier than anyone when she wants to be, probably,” she giggled, “but that’s different.”  
  
“How so?” he asked, suddenly curious. “I’ve known her practically my entire life and I still can’t stand up to her half the time.” Marinette giggled again.  
  
“I don’t care what she thinks about me, so it’s easy. I don’t have to think about what I say to Chloe, I just react. I can’t… _react_ with my parents. They’re too important. This, what they found out… it’s all too important.” She sighed. Catching his questioning expression, she grinned apologetically.  
  
“Sorry,” she breathed. “I- I wish I could say more.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I want to help you, not stress you out. Sorry I wasn’t very useful.”  
  
“You did! You are!!” she blurted out a little too fervently. She flushed, fighting the impulse to slap both hands over her mouth for her own protection. Adrien merely smiled.  
  
“Really,” she murmured, afraid to meet his eyes, “you are.”  
  
“I’m glad,” he replied, the sound reverberating in his chest in the most distracting way. “Do you-”  
  
A loud honk made both of them jump, as they suddenly realized how close they’d drifted again.  
  
_How does that even happen?_ she wondered frantically, determinedly looking away from him and out at the city; towards home. She frowned. A hand clapped on her back made her turn to look at Adrien, smiling softly down at her.

“Ready to face the music?” he asked with a half-smile, extending his other hand. She stared up at his silhouette, the sinking sunlight caught in the halo of his hair. Not trusting her voice to answer, she nodded and slipped one shaking hand into his, enthralled.  
  
Gallantly pretending not to notice, he pulled her to her feet and gave her shoulder another reassuring pat before descending the steps towards his waiting car--how long had it been there?

“See you later, Mari,” he waved as he opened the door. “Good luck!”  
  
“A- ADRIEN!” she cried, the spell broken. His blonde head popped up from behind the tinted window like a prairie dog, a questioning look on his face.  
  
“After everyone found out, did they… Is it still lonely?” she asked.  
  
He grinned and waved his phone over his head in answer. It took her a moment to realize that her good luck charm was hanging from the strap.  
  
“Everything turned out fine,” he called, slipping back into the sedan and out of sight.  
  
It wasn’t until the car was long gone that she realized he’d called her ‘Mari’.

✧         ✧        ✧

  

✧         ✧        ✧

As agonizingly long as the trudge back home felt on legs turned to stone, the walk suddenly seemed all too short as Marinette stared across the street at the bakery sign, repeating Adrien’s words in her head like a mantra.

“It’s just like ripping off a bandaid, Marinette,” she whispered to herself. “Except... the bandaid is the mask... and it’s being ripped off your face,” she half-cried.

"I'm sorry," Tikki peeped. Marinette smiled anxiously down at the kwami peeking out of her purse.

"It's okay, Tikki. I just... I need to make him understand that Ladybug is important. Not just to me, but to this city!” She grimaced. “I think he knows that already, deep down; it's just harder to accept because it's me behind the mask."

"Of course it's hard for him," the kwami chirped, flitting around her head excitedly. "He loves you! But try not to worry about it so much. It might seem bleak now, but he'll come around, I know it!"

She’d known it already in her heart of hearts, but somehow hearing Tikki say the words made them feel more real. She was still nervous, but suddenly Marinette didn't feel as cornered.  
  
"Thanks, Tikki,” she beamed, scooping the kwami into cupped hands and planting a kiss on her forehead. “That's exactly what I needed to hear!” She took a deep breath and marched across the street as if into battle.

  

By the time she’d reached the other side, her bravado had faded somewhat. She paused nervously on the doorstep, steeling herself for the conversation that loomed beyond it.  
  
"You can do it, Marinette!" came the muffled voice from her purse. Marinette let out a shaky laugh and nodded, then stepped inside.  
  
"Papa?" she called tentatively.  Her gaze quickly swept over the bakery, finding it empty, silent.

 _Strange_.

Usually at least one of them was watching the counter to greet customers, or puttering around the oven in the back. They should have heard her come in.  
  
Marinette shot a backwards glance at the door.

 _Yep_ , the sign was still turned to "Open". She flipped it over. Whatever conversation awaited her would take a while anyway.  
  
"Papa?" she called again, as she padded softly up the stairs, her resolve wavering with every quiet step. “Papa? Maman?” Cresting the stairs, she pushed the living room door open. "I'm-"  
  
She froze, staring straight ahead in horror.  
  
The wall was completely gone.

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H: Y'ALL CAN THANK LBC FOR THE PERFECTION OF THAT ADRINETTE SCENE COS IT WAS ALL HER. Pretty sure the only thing I did was make her dial it back in a few places-- //ducks thrown objects from readers
> 
> LBC: //(/ฅ́ωฅ̀// )*:ﾟ*｡⋆ฺ STAAAAHHHHHHP (it was actually just an accident... I went to this part to edit H's stuff and I ended up adding pages of Adrinette... because apparently I have a thing for Adrinette on the school steps lol)


	3. Chapter 3

✧         **3**        ✧

“They’re just cookies, man,” Nino chuckled, vaulting over the back of the couch and patting the cushion next to him.

“Trust me, Nino, there’s no such thing as ‘just cookies’,” Adrien replied emphatically, setting the plate on the coffee table and taking his seat with more decorum.

“You only say that ‘cause your _dad-_ ” he spat the word like an insult, “never lets you have ‘em.” Adrien half-shrugged in agreement.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he supplied diplomatically.

“Which is why you were so late, I guess?”

“Sorry, Nino,” he said, biting his lip, “something really important came up.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry about it, bro. More cookies for me. Oh, you know what’s the best, though? Those little spice cookies that Marinette’s dad makes,” Nino continued, grabbing the remote. “Alya totally got me into ‘em.”  

Adrien flushed at the mention of her name, wondering for a split second if Nino somehow knew... but no, Nino was too straightforward for that.

Adrien ran a hand over the back of his neck. Why should it bother him if Nino knew, anyway? Nino of all people would understand getting distracted by Marinette.

_But maybe not 20-minutes-late distracted,_ he inwardly winced, wondering where the time had gone. She’d just seemed so… lost. Maybe he’d seen a shadow of himself in her. That would explain why he’d blathered on about things he’d never told anyone, even Nino. What was it about her? Something in the way she looked at people just…

He shook his head, trying to clear the memory of her nervous hand on his shoulder and the blush across her cheeks. Suddenly he understood exactly where the time had gone.

The TV screen flashed to life, a newswoman droning in the background as Adrien’s mind drifted back to the present.

“We should go sometime,” he said absently.

“Where?” Nino friend asked, already engrossed in scrolling through the TV menu.

“Marinette's bakery,” Adrien said with feigned nonchalance as he turned to face the TV -- and immediately caught sight of a red blur.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Yeah! Ladybug!!" Nino cheered, leaning almost out of his seat and turning up the volume. The camera shot over shaking images of destruction as they tried to follow Ladybug’s rapid movements and the burly figure that barreled after her. The reporter continued her narration.

“-unclear at this time whether Painmaker is pursuing or being pursued, but we do have confirmation that Ladybug appears to have been injured by the akuma. And again, Alec, as of now Chat Noir is nowhere to be seen-”

Adrien clenched his fists, unconsciously thumbing the ring on his right hand as he watched Ladybug swing in and out of frame. Temporarily giving up as the pair vanished over a building, the camera swung back around to a reporter standing in front of piled debris.  
  
"Dude, wait," Nino murmured, suddenly serious. "Speak of the devil… Isn't that the bridge by Marinette’s house?"  
  
Adrien blinked, his stomach dropping. Nino was right. It wasn't too far...  
  
"Ah man," Nino breathed, slumping back into his chair. "That block looks wrecked. I hope they're okay."  
  
Adrien heard himself mutter something reassuring, but his mind was already working on an excuse. He knew Ladybug could handle herself, but that didn't make any difference; he would still go to her. He would always go to her.

And if Marinette was in danger, too-  
  
"Yo, Adrien!"  
  
Adrien jerked to attention, looking up to find his friend waving his arms like he was flagging down a plane. Nino laughed.

"Wow, where'd you go, man?"  
  
"Uh- sorry, man, I just remembered I'm supposed to be at a shoot," Adrien said, the lie coming easily enough. "They rescheduled it last-minute, I totally forgot."  
  
"Aw dude, really?" Nino groaned, following him to the table where they'd dumped their bags and books.  
  
"I'm really sorry, Nino, I’m the worst-"  
  
Nino threw up his hands, shaking his head. "Naw, it's chill, man. Totally understand."  
  
"Nino, you're awesome," Adrien said, meaning it from the bottom of his heart even while he gathered his things as quickly as he could.  
  
"This is true," Nino replied, shrugging and following his friend to the door. "But hit me up when it's over, bro. Maybe we can still hang... like, if your dad hasn't killed you for being late, anyway."  
  
"Hah, like he'd do it himself," he quipped automatically.  
  
"Daaamn, son."  
  
"Too dark?" Adrien laughed as he stepped out.  Nino just shook his head, amused.

"Catch ya later, dude."  
  
"Later!" he called over his shoulder.  
  
As soon as he heard the door close behind him, Adrien broke into a run.

 

  

 

✧         ✧        ✧ 

Rounding the final corner, Chat breathed a sigh of relief, smiling as Ladybug came into view. As if sensing him, she turned, and even that subtle motion sent her ribbons furling around her and made her hair catch the dying light. But he quickly noticed it sparkling off her cheeks as well.

His smile evaporated.

Was she… crying?

“Wh-”

Chat didn’t see Painmaker move. He didn’t even register the attack until he watched a black elbow connect with her lower lip. His stomach wrenched in false vertigo, the ground seeming to fall out from under him as her head snapped violently back. Every muscle in his body suddenly screamed, jerking him towards her as if pulled on marionette strings. He raced to close the distance between them, unchecked adrenaline pulsing through him and quickly morphing into pain as a raging desperation seized him.  
  
The akuma’s arm drew back for a second blow. The few seconds it took seemed to stretch out unendingly, the scene before him playing out in achingly slow motion as he strained against viscous air and begged his protesting muscles to move faster, _faster._

Painmaker’s palm opened, flexing his massive fingers, his elbow tensed behind him like the hammer of a cocked gun. The akuma grinned.

“ _N-_ ”

He released, hand spinning as he drove the heel of his palm beneath Ladybug’s ribs.

Chat screamed, long legs vaulting onto the rooftop as he watched her red form vanish over the far wall.

His feet slammed down with a violence that mocked his usual feline grace, claws raking the floor and pulling him into a hairpin turn toward the opposite ledge, his free hand gripping his staff in the same motion.

Painmaker turned with a speed that belied his size and lunged. Chat ducked, momentum driving him under the akuma as he extended his staff into the giant's gut, launching the akuma into the air.

Never slowing, Chat abandoned the weapon and continued his mad dash across the roof. He didn’t know what he would do when he got to the other side, but thinking was beyond him now.

Ladybug was _hurt_ ; what little impulse control he ever had was already long thrown to the wind as he leapt onto the precipice, clutching the edge to slingshot himself forward.

He dove.

She was already almost halfway to the ground. He flattened his arms against his body as the wind slapped him, sending his hair spinning away from his face as he slowly closed the distance between them.

_Closer_ , he willed himself, stretching his joints to the breaking point. He hurtled towards her, extending a clawed hand as he approached, but she fluttered agonizingly beyond his reach.

“ _LADYBUG!!_ ” Her name tore from his throat.

She cracked a weary eye, wincing with even that effort.

“Ch-” the whisper was swept away into the wind furling around them. He hovered inches away from her outstretched hand, gritting his teeth. He was so close, _so painfully close…_

Her yoyo flew over his shoulder, missing his cheek by a hair’s breadth. He wasted no time in surprise, jerking the cord and pulling her into his arms with a painful thud as their bodies collided in mid-air. Tightening his grip around her waist, he braced himself and jammed his claws into the raw metal of the support beam beside them.

The pain was immediate, his bones fighting to hold together as his claws grated against the pair’s descent, and all while the ground loomed ever closer. And closer.

_We’re not going to make it,_ he realized, squeezing her more tightly. He’d caught her too late, they were going to-

_Not an option._

Twisting his back towards the ground, he swung Ladybug up and over him so that she lay nestled atop his chest, and attacked the beam with his newly freed hand. He knew in the back of his mind that it still wouldn’t be enough to save them both. But maybe, just maybe...

He closed his eyes and curled protectively against her, drinking in the scent of her as he braced for impact.

But instead of the fatal crack of his skull against the pavement, he felt his shoulders thump the ground, knocking him onto his side as they skidded to a stop. He paused for a moment with Ladybug still cradled tightly in his arms before daring to lift his head and look around them. His back throbbed angrily as his mouth gaped open in disbelief. He would be bruised for certain, but... they were alive.  Somehow.

“I guess you really are lucky,” he breathed, looking down at her through tired eyes.

Chat sensed Painmaker’s approach before he saw him, flinging himself to the left as the pavement where they’d lain crumpled beneath the landing.

“I know a kitty looking for a _beating_ ,” he rumbled. Looking up, Chat noticed for the first time that one of the akuma’s hands was some kind of spinning metal.

“OH! Eggbeater pun?” Chat grinned, impressed despite the circumstances. Painmaker lifted another boot over the pair without pause.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Chat warned, dropping the light tone as he held a darkened hand over Ladybug, skin prickling with the energy of a silently summoned Cataclysm. “Not if you want this Miraculous, that is.”

As if sensing his intentions, Ladybug’s earrings let out a stark _BEEPBEEP_.

Painmaker frowned. His eyes seemed unfocused; no doubt Hawkmoth’s frantic voice was hissing in his ear.

It was all the distraction Chat needed.

He slammed his palm against the ground. The akuma’s head jerked in answer, his angry eyes suddenly riveted on the pair. He lunged, one metal hand spinning too fast for Chat to see, but it was too late: the ground gave way, devouring them as Chat and his Lady plummeted into the dark below.

✧ ✧ ✧

  


 

**JOKE DOODLES  
**   
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LBC: Yeahhhhhh sooooooo... we wrote this *before* La Marionnettiste (where LB just chucks Chat off a tower like it's no big deal LOL), so... uh... *sweats nervously* I mean Mari was really worried about Chat being dangled off the hotel in Antibug (maybe because he was tied and couldn't get to his staff?) and he doesn't have his staff when they fall here, so... idk, what are the limits on being squashed like a bug in these suits?? I NEED TO KNOW. FOR SCIENCE. Also I have a whole page of other drawings for this chapter but it's been a hectic week, so I'll add them later *cries*
> 
> H: TBH my headcanon is that they can still be hurt -- just cos the suits are indestructible doesn't mean they are! [there's actually a really good fic in my bookmarks that is specifically about this little loophole...]
> 
> ANYWAY LOL LOOK Y'ALL we're finally making it to my original prompt FROM FREAKING 3+ MONTHS AGO. XD (actually the end half of this chapter and the beginning half of the next, so i guess i'll just stfu cos NO SPOILER.) Also Painmaker's eggbeater hand started out as a stupid joke but we decided to /roll/ with it lolol. (actually tho it would really hurt getting punched by it...) 
> 
> LBC: Says you, I NEVER JOKE ABOUT EGGBEATER LIMBS... except when I called him Thomas Eggbeaterhands... lol
> 
> H: WHEN DID YOU CALL HIM THAT I DON'T REMEMBER I'M LITERALLY DYING LMGHDHFKSDJ this is why we're friends don't ever change
> 
> By the way, thanks for all the awesome feedback, guys ;0; we really appreciate it!!


	4. Chapter 4

✧         **4**        ✧ 

_BEEPBEEP_

He clutched the roof’s spine to steady himself, breathing raggedly as he found his footing again. It was harder to balance with another person on his back. What’s more, he was spent.

And confused.

What had happened back there? He might like to think that Ladybug desperately needed him—jokingly—but he knew the reality was very different.

 _At least in terms of battle strength_ , he smirked in spite of himself. What could have thrown her so off her game?

_And-_

He grimaced.

_And she was crying._

He reflexively tightened his grip on the girl draped across his back. Maybe it was personal. Did she know Painmaker?

And hadn’t that been Marinette’s father? His brow furrowed in automatic worry for his friend. She probably avoided the conversation she’d been so dreading, but he doubted she was pleased with the tradeoff. He hoped she was all right. He wanted to find out for himself, but he knew he couldn’t go to her. Not yet, at least. The best thing he could do for Marinette was to focus on Ladybug, so that Ladybug could focus on helping M. Dupain.

His thoughts returned to the baker. Most of the locals were well-acquainted with the man who was infamously as sweet as his business. What could make someone like him succumb to Hawkmoth’s corruption?

He paused in horror. Maybe Marinette hadn’t avoided that conversation after all. The thought settled horribly in the pit of his stomach, churning into knots.

God, and he'd _encouraged_ her…

He fought the sudden urge to be sick. She was in danger somewhere, and it was his fault.

_What happened?_

The questions swirled and added to the demanding throb of Chat’s heartbeat pounding against his temples, mirrored in painfully echoing pangs throughout the rest of his body.

He ignored them, planting his feet and steeling his aching muscles for another long leap.  He had to get his Lady somewhere safe.

_BEEPBEEP_

_And soon._

✧         ✧        ✧

 

He crashed onto the roof as nimbly as he could in his state, praying that the emptiness of the massive house below would work in his favor for once.

“I can’t believe we made it,” he rasped, sliding a single claw under the window’s ledge. He flicked his wrist and the window answered with a satisfying click.

_BEEPBEEP_

“ _No, no, no, NO_ ,” he pleaded as he leapt through the window, all but falling into his room. He hadn’t run himself ragged getting her home unseen only to have her secret identity revealed on his _roof_ of all places.

He spanned the last few feet in a single bound, stopping to lay her gingerly on his bed. Brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek, he slowed mid-motion, letting his fingers linger softly on her skin for a moment-- _just a moment-_ -as he looked at her tranquil face, cuddled adorably into his pillow.

 _Just to make sure she’s alright_ , he rationalized, tucking the strand of her hair behind a perfect ear. He even let himself believe the excuse for a breath, but he felt a tingling energy roll over his skin, and he looked down with wide eyes as her suit rapidly began to disintegrate. He was hypnotized as it evaporated to reveal pink shoes with little black-

“WAH!” He quickly spun around, blushing from ear to ear.

The turn was too sudden. Dizzy, he half-collapsed into a sitting position beside the bed as he was swallowed by the same familiar rush of energy. He threw cupped hands out in front of him just in time to catch his kwami. Adrien swayed. He didn’t usually drop the transformation this fast.

“Plagg, are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

But the tiny creature was already sound asleep. Adrien grinned softly, slowly lowering his hands into his lap. They’d both pushed it to the limit today.

“Thanks, buddy,” he murmured, closing his eyes with a long sigh and leaning his head back against the bed.

The bed that Ladybug was lying in.

He bit his lip. He knew she’d be upset if he tried to see her real face, but would she be mad if she knew how happy her masked sleeping face made him?

 _Probably_ , he smirked, imagining her reaction. His brow furrowed in temptation. Even the pouting face that popped into his mind to scold him was adorable. He was sure her unmasked face was even cuter. How was he supposed to resist that until she woke up?

“ _Don’t do it_ ,” he hissed under his breath, eyes still closed. He knew her identity mattered too much to her to share it, and she mattered too much to him to steal a peek without her permission. Not that he was jumping up and down to reveal his identity, either.

Besides, if anything he wanted to steal a-

“You’re Adrien.”

He froze, the voice over his shoulder knocking all the breath out of his body as his heart--so raggedly hammering in his chest just moments before--suddenly forgot how to beat.

“You’re Adrien!” the voice repeated, more insistent this time.

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, still not turning around. “Wait, you recognize me?” he realized. “DOES THAT MEAN-”

Before he could finish, a tiny red form floated past his cheek and alighted daintily on his wrist, careful not to disturb the sleeping Plagg. She (it was definitely a she) spared the larger kwami an assessing glance before turning back to Adrien.

“Does that mean what?” she pressed. He stared, transfixed for a moment before he found his train of thought again.

“Does that mean you--or, Ladybug, I guess--does that mean she knows me in real life?” The little kwami frowned, plopping herself down into a sitting position.

“I’ve seen your posters a lot,” she supplied apologetically, wiggling her feet.

“Ah... I see,” he laughed wistfully. “I guess it would be too much of a coincidence for Ladybug to be someone I know.”

The little creature gave him a pitying pout.  He grinned; her expression matched Ladybug’s perfectly.

“Let's get you some cheese, so you can...” He trailed off as he caught the quizzical look on her face.  “Or...is that only Plagg?” he asked.

Her expression changed from curious to incredulous as she turned toward the black kwami in his palms.

“Yeahhh,” she supplied, “Plagg is... one of a kind.” Adrien smiled. He couldn’t help but agree.

“Okay, then... so... what do you…”

“Anything's fine. Food-wise, I mean. Probably for Plagg, too, he's just... picky,” she pipped, sparing another judging look in his direction.  “Lazy kitty,” she whispered.

Adrien stood and chuckled under his breath; the little kwami had Ladybug’s sass, too.

“Well, he held out as long as he could,”  he offered in defense as he laid his friend gently on a chair, Adrien’s back still carefully turned to his bed. “He got us back here without losing the transformation.” Tikki hummed in acknowledgement. “Anyway, let's get you something to eat so you can change Ladybug back to… well, Ladybug,” he said, opening his door the slightest crack and peering through.  When she didn’t respond, Adrien turned to see the little kwami staring at him oddly again.

“...what?” he asked, suddenly self conscious.

“You're not... curious?” she asked. The boy sucked in a long, hissing breath, one hand going to the back of his neck.

“Honestly…” he sighed through a deepening blush, “I'm DYING to know. But... she wouldn't want me to. I can't betray her trust like that,” he murmured softly, almost as if he were saying it to himself, “and it's just not gentlemanly,” he finished more assuredly. The kwami continued to stare as he turned and waved her into the hallway.

“You're amazing,” she said at last. Adrien’s shoulders drooped in response.

“I guess I'm kind of a sap, huh-”

“No, that’s not it,” she interrupted. She paused, considering her words carefully. “I'm glad you're Chat Noir. You're a good person.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a shy smile.

“Under all that shameless flirting, I mean.”

“E TU, KWAMI?” he chuckled, pausing to peek around the corner before darting into the kitchen.

“Tikki. It's Tikki.”

“Tikki, then,” he repeated, breaking into a wide, catlike grin. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

He quickly began rifling through the cupboards, listing and weighing options for her as he went. She smiled warmly.

_So this is why she likes him._

“Try this one,” he said, extending an open hand. “My friend--well, my classmate, I guess--her family owns this bakery.” The kwami smiled at his sudden enthusiasm. “It’s tiny, but they make the best pastries in Paris. It’s awesome...” He paused as he thought of the baker. He tried to remember if he’d seen Marinette there, or on the news, but he’d been so focused on Ladybug...

Tikki dropped into in his palm.

“Don't worry, Adrien,” she said, picking up the familiar cookie. He had good taste--these were her favorite. Adrien looked down at her questioningly.

“Ladybug…” she explained, taking a huge bite, “she'll definitely fall in love with you someday.” His mouth dropped open.

“H- h- how can you be so sure?” he stuttered. Tikki shrugged.

“Call it intuition,” she smirked as she chewed, “but mostly because you’re kind.” She paused to stuff the rest of the cookie in her mouth. “Women are powerless against real kindness, you know. Most people are, actually.”

He stared, dumbfounded, the idea of it nailing him in place. Ladybug. In love with him. In love with _him_. He couldn’t even begin to fathom something so wonderful.

“Ladybug owes you for this one,” Tikki continued, interrupting his reverie.

“She doesn't owe me anything,” he replied automatically, moving to collect a wedge of cheese with Tikki still cupped in his palm. “God knows she's saved me enough times without asking for any favors. I'd like one from you, though,” he added, passing her another cookie. “If you don't mind, that is.”

“Sure. What?”

“Don't tell her who I am.”   

 

✧         ✧        ✧

✧         ✧        ✧

  
Marinette was aware of the pain first. For a moment, she simply laid there, eyes closed, unable to move, feeling the ache gradually radiating through her body. Still incoherent, her mind slowly pieced the fog of events together... she thought she remembered Chat. And falling. And her fa-  
  
Her eyes shot open as her heart lurched inside of her.

"Pa-" she immediately clamped her eyes shut again as her head added an angry throb to her body’s chorus of aches. "Papa," she winced.  
  
"Ladybug!"  
  
Marinette blinked as a red and black blur shot into her vision.  
  
"Tikki?" she asked,  noting an unfamiliar high ceiling behind the kwami. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head to look around, but Tikki immediately zipped in front of  her face, blocking her view as she belatedly processed the fact that Tikki had called her ‘Ladybug’ and not ‘Marinette’.  
  
"What happened?" she asked quietly, feeling her hackles rise despite her exhaustion.  
  
"Chat Noir brought us here."

Marinette gasped, Chat's face flashing through her memory: desperate, reaching, her name bursting from his lips. She sat up carefully. Marinette automatically moved to find her partner, but Tikki was there again, quickly fluttering into her line of sight.

"Wh-"  
  
"This is Chat Noir's home!" the kwami cried. "You shouldn't look!"  
  
“What-” Without thinking, Marinette moved to look around again only to be blocked by Tikki latching onto her face with a squeak. It drew a startled laugh from the girl despite the weight on her heart. “Sorry,”  she relented, “I get it, I get it, I won't look.”  
  
Satisfied, Tikki floated into Marinette's hands, peering up at her with a guilty look on her tiny face.

"I held the transformation as long as I could,” she explained, “but it wasn't enough."

Marinette's eyes widened and she felt her stomach drop for the second time that day. How had this day gone so wrong? First her father, and now this? She swallowed hard.

"H- he knows?" she gulped. “Too?”  
  
"No!" Tikki replied quickly. “He could have looked, but he didn't. He respected your privacy... I think we should respect his."  
  
Marinette stared for a moment as her kwami's words sank in, feeling heat rise to her cheeks. Of course she would return the courtesy.  _Especially now_ , she thought with an inward grimace. She knew the sense of security the mask offered, and how it felt to have it suddenly stripped away.

She carefully probed her ribs where she dimly remembered her father-- _no, Painmaker,_ she corrected herself--landing a blow. The touch was answered with a sharp ache and an equally uncomfortable gasp, but she didn't think anything was broken. She could still fight. And she needed to; she needed to fix this, to make it _right_.  
  
She needed her father back.

"Alright," she said, careful to focus her gaze on Tikki, "now how was he expecting to get me out of here without me seeing anything?"

 

✧         ✧        ✧  
  


**JOKE DOODLES  
** -pillows- **  
**  
  


**  
**-kinkshame- **  
**  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H: This fandom needs far more Adrien/Tikki moments, y/y? I agree. (bless LBC for that scene lol)
> 
> LBC: *cries* I just love the idea of Adrien and Tikki being secret buddies ok and Tikki being like wow he's a cool dude and becoming his secret wingman (wingkwami??) and I just ahhhhhhhhhhihavesomanyfeelingsaboutthisok  
> Also we had so many jokes for this chapter lol H came up with the pillow one and I came up with the kink shame one but we couldn't decide which to use so  
> 
> 
>    
> H: IT TRUE. LBC also had a funny one where Adrien is like, "so what would you have done if I _had_ peeked?" and Tikki goes something like, "I WOULD HAVE ENDED YOU. //DEADPAN MURDER FACE" and Adrien is like, "O-oh, g- good thing I'm a gentleman then....!!! 8D;;;;" but she decided not to draw it cos the wait for this chapter was long enough xD 
> 
> Also, for the luls, part of my original prompt which started this fic:  
> 


	5. Chapter 5

✧         **5**        ✧ 

“Close your eyes.”

“Are you going to put a sack on my head?” she joked, complying.

“What?” he asked incredulously. She let out a small ‘eep’ as he scooped her into his arms. “Why would I put a sack on your head?”

“Or a blindfold or something,” she supplied, half-shrugging into his chest. He chuckled, and from so close the sound reverberated through her body in a not entirely unpleasant way.

“You can just keep your eyes closed,” he answered. She could hear the grating slide of a window as the gentle night breeze over her cheeks told her they were outside.

“You’re not worried I’ll peek?” she prodded.

“No,” he replied, chuckling again. “I trust you. And honestly if you wanted to know my identity that badly, do you really think I’d stop you anyway?”

She tried to hide her cringe; she wasn’t even sure she wanted to know after the way this day was going. She was starting to believe that ignorance was bliss after all. She felt Chat’s muscles tense for the first leap.

“You... _bready for this?_ ” he grinned. She nodded in reply, too tired to chastise him. The silence didn’t go unnoticed.

“Really,” he repeated more seriously, “are you ready?” She didn’t answer.

Something wasn’t right. He unconsciously started rubbing comforting circles into her back with a gloved thumb. It seemed to break whatever spell she’d put herself under.

“Let’s go,” she whispered.

Her father was still out there somewhere, wreaking havoc on Paris. She had to stop him, for his sake as much as her own.

✧         ✧        ✧

“Thanks, Alec. We are still live at the scene, and we’ll be bringing you details as events unfold. As you can see, rescue efforts are already underway, but otherwise things seem to have quieted down. Since the reports earlier that Chat Noir was spotted, both of our heroes have-”

Nadja screamed as the camera in front of her crumpled and was replaced by a massive black and gold blur that seemed to materialize out of thin air. More screams followed as bystanders scattered in every direction. Painmaker paid them no mind, his focus on the reporter who had yet to move. He leaned in close, one mechanical hand leading the way. His whisper was dangerously low.

“You. Knead. To leave.” His hand whirred to emphasize each pause, inching closer to her face as he spoke. She stared blindly, shaking for a moment before his words finally seemed to sink in. “ _Now_ ,” he growled.

Released her from her temporary paralysis, she fled.

“You baking _buffoon!_ ”  Hawkmoth’s frustrated voice slithered through his mind, scratching against his temples for the third time in as many minutes. “Now how will Ladybug and Chat Noir know where you are?”

Without answering, Painmaker shrugged and glowered at the remains of the camera, grinding the pieces under his boot with a satisfying crunch.

The voice in his head scoffed, as if Hawkmoth had seen the defiant gesture. “If they can’t find you, how will you take their Miraculous?” he hissed.

“That doesn’t matter.”

“ _What!?_ Painmaker, you-”  
  
“If I take the stones now, what will that accomplish? They’ll just want them back.”

“You idiot. Their _wants_ won't matter once I've acquired their Miraculous!"

“No, but if they want them back, they’ll get them back-- _Ladybug_ will, at least. If she wants something, she _will_ get it.” He could almost feel Hawkmoth’s teeth grinding in protest, but after so many sound defeats he had no argument left to stand on.

“And what does that have to do with getting me their Miraculous?” Hawkmoth finally seethed.

“She’s always been the type to learn her lessons the hard way,” he continued. “She won’t acknowledge a wall until she rams into it head first.”

“Then _throw_ her into a _wall!_ ”

“Exactly,” he responded, his voice insidiously calm. “She has to suffer first, learn to respect the oven by getting burnt. By the time I take her Miraculous, it’ll feel like a _blessing_ , not a theft.” There was a short pause.

“Delightful as that notion may be, none of it will matter if they can’t _find_ you. You destroyed all the cameras. Now you’ll have to destroy half of Paris to get their attention again.” There was a knowing frustration in his voice.

“No. I’ll wait.”

“You’ll _what?_ ” he spat.

“She'll come to me,” Painmaker replied calmly. “She knows where to find me.”

“But _how?_ ” Hawkmoth pressed.

Painmaker smirked darkly. “She'll know.”

✧         ✧        ✧

He wasn’t worried about her recognizing the inside of his room: not even Nino had been granted entry by the impassable warden that was his father.

Getting Ladybug out, on the other hand, was more risky. Who wouldn’t recognize the largest, most decadent mansion in Paris? She would have to close her eyes until she was a safe distance away from the house. To protect his identity. Ladybug herself had insisted they take every precaution. And if her eyes were closed, there was no other choice but for him to carry her. It made perfect sense.

Or at least that’s what he kept telling himself as he carried her princess-style over the roofs of Paris. Just yesterday he would have been electrified at the touch of her hand on his shoulder in a round of tag (though he worried she was starting to catch onto how slow he ran whenever she  was ‘it’); and yet--between the mid-air rescue, the piggyback back to his room, and now this--the duo had made more physical contact in the past 24 hours than in their entire partnership before that.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ladybug’s fingertips brushed against the nape of his neck, readjusting her grip around him with a soft, impatient sigh. He grinned and fought a shudder as he felt her warm breath against his chest.

_No_ , he admitted to himself, even now her hand on his shoulder would send shivers down his spine. He studied her unguarded expression: her eyes closed, her cheek resting against him, her chin tilted up at him _just_ so, almost as if-

“Are we there yet?” she asked with a furrowed brow.

“Not quite, my lady,” he answered with a widening grin, tearing his gaze away from her lips to focus on another jump.

“Chaaaat-”

“Really,” he laughed, peering down at her again and noting the adorable way her nose wrinkled when she groaned at him. “I'm only doing what you asked. But if you've changed your mind and you want to swap business cards..." he trailed off teasingly, wiggling his brows even though she couldn't see.

“Wh- Chat! _You_ don’t want me to know, _either!_ ” she huffed, eyes still determinedly shut.

“I don’t know about that,” he breathed, half to himself.

“What?”

“Maybe part of me is secretly hoping you’ll figure it out,” he sighed theatrically.

“Then why are you taking me so far away? And in zig-zags and circles, no less.”

“So you noticed that, did you?”

“That’s not an answer,” she prodded. He chuckled at her relentlessness. She wasn’t as easily distracted as he was, and after the tension back at the house, he was aiming to distract her.

“Maybe the rest of me is terrified that you _will_ figure it out,” he replied at last.

“What?” she asked, not bothering to disguise the hitch in her voice.  “Look, I’m not saying you should tell me, because you shouldn’t--we _both_ shouldn’t,” she grimaced as her father’s face flashed in her mind, looking up at her in horror, “but you can trust me a little more than that.” She would never do that to Chat, no matter who he was. “I wouldn’t tell anyone if I found out who you were… and I would accept you,” she added after a pause.

He was glad she couldn’t see the worried smile that crept across his face.

_So much for distracting her,_ he thought grimly. He was starting to suspect that they were having two parallel conversations. If he couldn't get her mind off whatever was bothering her, he could at least make sure she wasn’t worrying over his imagined lack of trust in her as well.

“That has less than nothing to do with it,” he assured her, his usual teasing lilt absent. “I’d give you my life, Bug. You really think I wouldn’t give you my name if you actually wanted it?” Even out of the corner of his eye, her blush was obvious. He continued to stare straight ahead, afraid of what he’d do if he looked directly at the adorable expression, especially when he could feel her heartbeat suddenly pounding against his. Or maybe it was just his own racing pulse echoing against her body.

"And for the record, I trust you," he continued after a silence. And then--both grateful for Ladybug’s closed eyes and yet also horrified at the confession her vulnerability drew out of him--he added, "probably more than anyone I've ever known."

Ladybug let the words and the responsibility that came with them sink in.

Somewhere deep down, she knew she felt the same. She could tell Chat things she couldn’t tell her family, or even Alya. Even though she couldn’t give him her real name, it wasn’t because she thought he would expose her. If anything, she was worried he would put himself in danger for her sake if he knew the truth.

_Although he’s done that a few times now anyway,_ she realized, thinking back to their battles with Le Gamer and others.

No, if anything she trusted him _too_ much. The fact that she was letting him ferry her around Paris with her eyes obediently closed and her ear pressed to his beating heart was proof enough of that. And she had to admit, if only to herself, that it may have become more than that. Surrounded by the warmth of his body and the jump of his muscles and his smell-- _had he always smelled this good??_ \--she had to confess that maybe she had let that trust snowball into something much more precarious.

But she couldn’t say any of those things, so she merely clasped her arms a bit tighter around him.

“I know you do,” she breathed at last, and they came to a stop.

“You can open your eyes now,” he murmured, the words belying the reluctance in his grasp. Her eyes scanned the horizon, but she knew his senses were sharper than hers in the dark.

“Where is he?” she asked, too tired to point out that he hadn’t set her down yet. She wasn’t sure how steady she’d be on her feet just yet, anyway.

“Somewhere around Notre Dame, according to the last news report,” he replied. They were practically there. She tensed at the thought of facing her father again.

“Everything all right?” Chat asked, sensing the change.

“Chat, do you ever… hate fighting? Akuma, I mean?” she asked, eyes still trained on the silhouette of the grand cathedral.

“Every time,” he answered softly, his breath whispering through her hair, “but not as much as I hate seeing people get hurt.”

The slight squeeze he gave her didn’t go unnoticed. She flexed her lower jaw automatically, testing for soreness as the image of Chat hurtling towards her--and the desperate expression on his face--flashed in her mind.

“Sorry,” she mumbled into his collarbone. “I’ll be careful this time.” Her partner sighed.

“I won’t ask why Painmaker is different,” Chat began after a pause, treading gently, “but you… weren’t yourself before. I’ve never seen an akuma land a hit on you like that.” He looked down at her. “Should I be worried?” The genuine concern in his eyes made it difficult to lie to him, so she didn’t.

“I guess I just needed my partner,” she replied, giving his bell a playful flick. He grinned. “You ready to face the music, kitty cat?” Taking the cue, he obediently set her on the ground.

“Ladies first.”

✧         ✧        ✧

  

✧         ✧        ✧

They'd found Painmaker easily enough in a small park not far from Notre Dame. It had helped that his Lady seemed to know exactly where to go. Chat tried not to dwell on it as he focused on the fight. Ladybug faced the akuma with none of her usual flourish; he was grateful for their intuitive teamwork in the eerie silence that permeated the battle. Ladybug spoke only once; everything else was conveyed through quick nods and hand signals, as if she didn’t trust her own voice.

Her unrelenting focus stunted his usual banter with both her and Painmaker, who cracked more puns than Chat had all day. Everything was wrong, and Chat knew it, could sense it like electricity in the air. He was relieved when they defeated Painmaker easily--without the need for his Cataclysm, no less.

He watched Ladybug quietly perform her Miraculous Healing with a sad imitation of her normal exuberance, erasing the damage around them in a blink. He watched the way she abruptly turned toward the akuma to stare, enthralled. And he watched the tension spill out of every inch of her as she waited, almost as if she didn’t trust her power to work on him.  

_Why?_ he wondered helplessly.

The cloud of black and purple bubbled and then suddenly disintegrated, revealing a bewildered Tom Dupain where Painmaker had knelt seconds before.  
  
Forgoing their usual fist bump, Chat stood back as Ladybug stepped closer to the baker. The man blinked up at her, his eyes widening.  
  
"M-" he began thickly, but his eyes darted to Chat, then around at the people beginning to gather nearby. "No..." he breathed, looking back at her. "What did I-"  
  
"Don't," Ladybug cut him off, her own voice quivering. She reached out hesitantly, placing a hand on his shoulder. And then, so quietly that Chat barely heard it, she said, "it wasn't your fault... it wasn't you."  
  
Instead of comforting him, the words only seemed to make the man feel worse, his features pinching as if in physical pain.  
  
Ladybug's earrings beeped and she flinched, pulling back. She stood motionless for a moment, watching the giant of a man bury his face in his hands, then she turned slightly, looking at Chat with a haunted expression. He froze under the weight of her stare, unsure what to make of it.

The entire exchange between his Lady and the baker made his heart ache. It was clear the two knew one another, and his rational mind was scrambling to gather all the pieces, to give him the answer that he knew was right in front of him. But he wouldn't allow himself to listen: he'd promised. So he pushed the thoughts away.  
  
"Chat," she murmured, and he focused again. She nodded her head to one side, wordlessly asking him to follow, before she unfurled her yoyo and swung away from the scene.  
  
Chat gave M. Dupain a backwards glance as he pulled out his staff, watching as a few people from the crowd stepped forward, trying to comfort the man. He gave them a convincing grin and salute, then followed Ladybug to the rooftops.

 

  


  
She was waiting for him a few blocks away.  
  
"My Lady?" he called, landing gracefully behind her and stowing his weapon. She didn't turn towards him as he came to stand next to her. He waited for her to start, unsure how to voice the tangle of questions in his own mind.

Her earrings beeped before he could think of anything.  
  
“...how many is that now?” he asked to break the silence that followed. 

Instead, the question seemed to break some unspoken resolve within her, and without warning she spun and laced her arms around him, burying her face under his chin. He stood stunned for a moment, his hands hovering over her trembling shoulders, torn between wanting to hold her and not wanting to make things worse. His hesitance shattered as her shuddering breath reverberated against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as tightly to him as he dared.

She didn’t know how long they’d been standing that way when the beep of Chat’s ring brought them both back to reality, and she jumped back. So much for re-establishing boundaries.

“Sorry,” she piped, arms uncoiling from him more slowly than she knew they should, “I just... I just needed that.” He flashed her a grin that he doubt conveyed just how sorry he wasn’t.

“Any time, my Lady,” he purred.

“Thanks,” she smiled.

“No, really,” he repeated emphatically, “ _any_ time. Like now. Now would also be fine. Don't hold back for my sake, I’m willing to take one for the team.” She grinned in spite of herself.

“Thanks, Chat,” she said, blinking away tears before they could fall. He wanted desperately to reach out and wipe them away, to cup her cheeks in his palms and whisper 'it's all right' until it was true. But he also didn't fully know what had brought this on, and he didn't want to intrude on her grief. The silence stretched out between them as he stood fighting not to go to her, and she fought not to cry.

“You know him, don't you?” he asked at last.

Her head jerked up in response, the terrified look in her eyes answer enough. She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off.

“No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked, it's too personal,” he said, waving his hands in surrender. Her mouth closed again, but the distraction seemed to have safely stoppered her tears.

“To make it even,” he said after some consideration, “I know him, too.”

She looked up at him again, the the raw hurt in her eyes rolling over him in a tangible wave. He faltered. He was wading blind through this minefield, but something told him he had to continue anyway.

The earrings beeped again, urgency lending both of them courage.

“He's a good man,” Chat continued reassuringly. She tucked her chin, and he knew she was crying despite her half-hearted attempt to hide it.  

At the first tear, he crumbled. He closed the space between them again, folding her into his arms and pressing his lips to the top of her head before his mind could stop him. He froze, suddenly worried he’d crossed an unspoken line, but breathed a sigh of relief as she relaxed into his shoulder again.

“It's okay,” he whispered into her hair, aching at the slight shudders that wracked her body. His thumb traced tender strokes behind her ear. “It's okay, it's okay.” She shook her head, pigtails brushing against his suit. “He's fine, Ladybug. Everyone's fine, thanks to you. It's over now.”

“It's not,” she murmured, so quietly he could barely hear it.

“You de-evilized him,” he continued, still petting her softly.

“You don’t understand. It’s Hawkmoth.”

Chat’s hand stilled.

“What about him?” he asked, still confused. She pulled away just enough to look at him.

“He knows who I am, Chat,” she said evenly, watching the gravity of her words sink in. “He _knows_.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> H: Welp! That's it, that's the end! Bye! //dusts off hands and heads out  
> 
> 
> (no but really that's it #sorrynotsorry)
> 
> LBC: I would like to point out that like 3 months ago I told her "you know you won't be able to stop there" and she was like "lol of course I will" and the last few weeks she's been messaging me with fic ideas lololol so MAYBE we'll continue idk we'll see. Also I think this chapter was the hardest because we disagreed on the most stuff and we worked on it while we were the most tired oTL btw if your heart is breaking over LB and Tom BLAME H SHE WROTE THAT THING.
> 
> H:  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> By the way, you can find us at <http://hchano.tumblr.com/> and <http://littleblackchat.tumblr.com/> :'D
> 
> \---  
> April 6 edit:  
> [For those that keep asking about the next chapter](http://hchano.tumblr.com/post/142313620241/okay-so-like-i-saw-that-art-post-of-yours-for-you) (sorry)


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